


the long way home

by zoldnoveny



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boiling Rock, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoldnoveny/pseuds/zoldnoveny
Summary: In which Jet somehow winds up in Boiling Rock Prison, can't remember a thing, and once again meets two boys from his past. After being liberated from jail, he returns to Air Temple Island with Sokka and Zuko and tries to figure this whole mess out.
Relationships: Jet/Sokka (Avatar), Jet/Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	the long way home

**Author's Note:**

> so jet lives... we all agree right :D

Jet remembered the lanterns. But it stopped there.

His recollection was smudged into something unrecognizable - warped beyond time or clarity. The lanterns, the warm yellow glow flickering in his gaze. Light painted in shimmering strokes against a cave wall, and an empty feeling in his stomach. Feeling like he was falling.

After that, he remembered waking up on the gondola. His mouth tasting like sawdust and smoke, throat raw. His head was in someone’s lap, a woman, and they were surrounded by people in chains. He, too, wore shackles - but with a mind too fuzzy to register the unfolding reality. It wasn’t until landing on the dock he got it, piecing together the glowing lanterns and Li’s Shuang Dao grinding into his crossed swords. The ferry to Ba Sing Se. Smellerbee’s insistence that he was taking it too far. 

It got especially blurry around where Jet remembered kissing Li. He didn’t know if that was true or some projection - his mind and emotions scrambling shit up, taking advantage of the desire and warping it to realization. But he remembered kissing Li on the ferry and in Ba Sing Se, Li’s eyes glimmering like molten gold and his lips shining with spit. He looked terrified, almost ashamed... like a child caught doing something he knows is bad. How could that be a false memory? That momentary look of terror?

As he grew accustomed to life in prison, Jet continued to search for pieces of his lost memory. Although he couldn’t recall where the lanterns were from, nor why he and Li fought, he had a feeling the two were somehow connected. As far as he could recall, he and Li got along well -  _ more _ then well - so it was important that he uncovered the subject of their conflict. What was it that Smellerbee swore he was taking too far? That, too, had to be a factor. But all that Jet could recall was too swampy to make sense of.

Prison did not agree with him. There had been multiple occasions in his life resulting in time spent in a cell, but this was certainly the longest. The guards claimed this to be the highest security prison in all of the Fire Nation, and Jet could sense they were not lying. Unlike the few jails he’d been held in, this place was impenetrable. Smellerbee and Longshot would not be coming to bail him out with stolen funds, guards would not be sleeping close enough to the bars for him to steal their keys. Here, prisoners were strongarmed under constant supervision. Wake up in your cell, go with the group when it’s time to eat, perform your designated tasks, an hour in the yard if you were lucky. Being naturally resistant to authority, he often lost his privileges and went days without seeing sunshine. Or food.

Apparently, being sent to the cooler as a non-bender was a feat worthy of respect. Other prisoners told him of this upon his first return, while he was still shuddering from the biting cold, could still feel the frost in his bones and icy seize in his chest. He thought he would die in there, that the cold would choke and wring the life from him. Guards dragged him out, joking that they forgot him there, forgot that as a non-firebender, he couldn’t regulate his body temperature enough to protect himself. When he tried to sleep after that, he could feel the cold gripping him still. Tried to cough out the ice in his chest. Couldn’t.

Typically, his work was manufacturing and repairing old war machines in a far off wing of the prison. Refusing to aid the Fire Nation’s war effort with his labor was what sent him to the cooler the first time. After, the fight was stomped from him, and since then he learned to do what he was told - at least, when they could see. 

He tried to think of the forest. The trees stretching endlessly to the sky, canopy a tightly woven tapestry above them, unraveling to reveal stalks of shimmering sunlight. Smellerbee, Longshot, Pipsqueak, The Duke. Everyone. Eating together around a fire while the cicadas sang. The thrill of winning a fight, then going home to live another day. There was a hole in Jet’s chest where those memories should have been, but it yawned and split into a chasm. Those recollections stuttered, so he thought of the cold. The dark. The mystery of whatever happened in Ba Sing Se.

He met Suki a while into his stay. Time became slippery and amorphous early on, so it was unclear just how much of it had passed. But Jet had a feeling it was long enough to start feeling hopeless.

Suki, like him, was of the Earth Kingdom. A Kyoshi warrior, which Jet would have been starstruck over, before. The Kyoshi Warriors were a perfect example of a tight-knit group grounded in Earth Kingdom culture - the kind of group Jet, himself was proud to have been a member of. He and Suki bonded over their mutual leadership and similar causes, and Jet was inclined to trust her. But the nagging emptiness left by his amnesia made it difficult.

Suki spoke of a boy and his friends she swore would come to rescue her. Said she wasn’t the type to rely on anyone - especially a man - to be her savior, but this boy was driven by a unique intellectualism that could accomplish anything. Jet was jealous of her blind faith, and recalled days when he could count on his Freedom Fighters in such a manner. But idealism wasn’t his style, and he was sure that she would eventually come to the same conclusion.

Funnily enough, he was proven wrong.

This was becoming an increasingly common phenomenon. Jet, being wrong. He’d constructed all of his core values around the basis that the world was wrong, and that he was simply wading through the mess and trying to make something of it. But he had been wrong when trying to drown that village - and many times before. Probably in Ba Sing Se. And now. His cynicism enabled him to survive in the past, acted as a barrier between himself and a harsh reality, because it was safer not to indulge in hope. But, at least in this way, it was a falsehood.

When the door of his cell slammed shut, Jet jerked awake. A few moments passed while his eyes adjusted to the dark, making out the shadowed silhouette of a guard through the haze of his budding consciousness. The fuck? As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything especially troublesome recently, so why was he getting a personal visit? He pulled himself up to prepare for the upcoming scuffle, but was met with nothing.   
  
The guard just stood there, looking slightly awkward and uncomfortable, even with his face covered. A jauntily adjusted piece of armor slid from his left shoulder and he went to fix it, his mannerisms subtly familiar… although Jet couldn’t quite place why. It was obvious something abnormal was happening, but this was fucking prison - so.

“It really is you.” The guard’s voice was low and tinny as it reverberated inside of his helmet.

“... Yeah, this is my cell.” Jet responded, growing more confused by the second. He was also becoming fairly certain he could take this guy in a fight if need be. 

“I - oh.” The guard went for his helmet, hastily yanking it over his head. And - well, shit. 

A hole promptly opened in Jet’s stomach for his heart to fall through. “Li?”

There was no mistaking it, not with that scar. And now that Jet knew, the dots were scrambling to connect in his mind. Of course. Of course. In that uniform, the rusted red shot through with black; in  _ those  _ colors, Fire Nation colors, it clicked. Li’s ambiguous past. His gold eyes. His swords scraping against Jet’s in the city streets. 

Never before in his entire time in Boiling Rock had Jet longed for his Shuang Gao more - and that was saying something. His unfiltered rage boiled so intensely that he could hear it roaring in his ears, pulse pounding like a steel drum. His vision blurred and narrowed into pinpricks, and all he could see was Li, Fire Nation Li, looking at him like he was sad. Like he had the right to be sad. 

“I saw you out in the yard, and I wasn’t sure…” Li continued. “But I couldn’t just leave it. I had to check and see - and I was right. It’s you.” 

Listening to Li’s rambling while simultaneously trying to piece together the fragments of his expanding memory was troublesome. Jet didn’t want to have this discussion - not ever, but especially now. He wanted to be left with his thoughts and his shame and never have to confront this again. How could he live with himself, knowing that he had not only been in cahoots with a Firebender, but that he had let that Firebender live? Everything he stood for crumbled around him, ushered on by the helplessness he felt being in prison. And Li was there to fucking see it. 

Still, as a master at putting on airs, he did not let that be known. With his shoulders rolled back into something resembling confidence, he fixed Li with a flat look. “Well, you’ve got me. I’m sure this pleases you to no end, you fucking ash-maker.”

The shadows playing off Li’s face made him look pale and ghostly. “It doesn’t,” he said in a quiet, thin voice. “I didn’t want them to take you away, Jet, but you attacked me. What was I supposed to do?”

“You could’ve told the truth!” Jet’s anger exploded from him like an inhuman force. He sprung to his feet, shitty bedframe groaning its protest behind him. “You pretended to be someone you’re not! You pretended to be like me!”   
  
“I was like you! I was a refugee, looking for a new start. And you tried to take that from me!” Li took a step forward, his voice raising slightly.    
  
“You didn’t deserve it.” Jet spat with malice dripping from his tongue. “You don’t deserve a new start, because all you  _ people _ do is end things. Destroy things.”

A muscle jumped in Li’s jaw as he clenched his teeth, eyes squeezed shut. He took a sharp inhale through his nose, and Jet could immediately feel the room warming up around them. Rage and panic clenched in his gut, and his instincts warred between urging him to fight and to run away. He knew he couldn’t take a Firebender right now, but he wanted to. He wanted somewhere to put all the directionless anger inside of him, once and for all. 

“I don’t want to argue this with you again. Look where it got you!” Li yelled, fists clenched at his sides. “Can’t you just shut up and let me help you?”

Help him? Jet’s all-encompassing rage receded just slightly, usurped by confusion. He supposed that was  _ one _ explanation as to why Li was here, disguised as a guard - even if it made no sense.    
  
“Look, you don’t have to like me.” Li continued, his voice quiet once more, but still tense. “But I can help you. I’m here with a friend, to get his friend out. We can take you with us.”

Jet worked his teeth together, itching for something to chew. Back in Ba Sing Se, he really had been trying to be better. He remembered that much. Meeting the Avatar had shown him that there was at least a sliver of hope for a better world, and Jet didn’t want to be ushered into that world weighed down with all of his shitty tendencies. It wouldn’t be as simple as Aang seemed to assume - even if he did defeat the Firelord, there would still be troops to drive out, society to reform… but the war had shaped Jet, raised him, and he didn’t know how to exist without it. He wanted to learn, and that’s why he left the forest. He wasn’t stupid, didn’t think his extremism was good - just necessary. But maybe it wasn’t, as shown to him by the Avatar and his friends. Sokka, who was so like him, specifically.

So if he was trying to be better, maybe he should let Li help him. Like he said, he didn’t have to  _ like _ him, but he didn’t have to… kill him. Especially if he was trying to help.

Besides, Jet needed to prioritize himself here. That was how he’d survived and enabled others to survive for his entire life. If he let his own monolithic pride keep him from accepting assistance when it was his last resort, then he’d die here. And he wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Fine.” He gritted out, ignoring all of his instincts that urged him not to.

Li visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping. “Okay. Good.” And just like that, the tension reformed, shoulders snapping back. “But, there’s something else you need to know.”

What the hell else could there be? Jet’s irritation was rapidly expanding. He cocked a brow as if to urge Li on.

“My name is Zuko. Li was - it was a lie. I’m Zuko.” He shifted his gaze.

“You’re named after the Prince?” Jet scoffed. “Way to make it fucking unavoidable.” 

Li’s posture was that of someone with a broom taped to their spine, stiff and unyielding, and his face was set in the same stony determination Jet recognized from their fight in Ba Sing Se. Lips a tight line, brow furrowed, eyes forward - but not making contact. He looked like he was putting on a facade, and some hidden facet of Jet was drawn in once more by their similarities. Li was so like him in so many ways, that’s why he felt so inclined to know him. Putting on a brave face to hide reality was something Jet was very familiar with. He almost wanted to give Li the benefit of the doubt. 

But then Li spoke.

“I’m not named for the Prince. I am -  _ was _ the Prince.”

Jet blinked.

“I know it’s… a lot.”   
  
Jet’s laughter tore through him before he had the chance to swallow it down, bursting at the seams at the sheer ridiculousness. Because, of course. Of course, when he was almost, somewhat, past the shock of Li being a Firebender, he turned out to be a fucking monarch of Firebenders. Just Jet’s luck.

But he had already surmounted the first hill, come to terms with what was necessary to guarantee his escape. Li was a firebender, and that was truly the worst of it. Any firebender, regardless of status, would have evoked that reaction. Besides, Jet knew about Prince Zuko, the shamed, exiled child. Sent on a fruitless chase by his cruel father after being forced into some masochistic fire duel and banished. Earth Kingdom resistance told stories of this boy as proof of Ozai’s utter despicableness - a villain, even to his own son. Jet didn’t believe in pitying his oppressors, but if what he knew of the Prince was true, he understood why he saw so much of himself in Li.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

“Whatever. Just get me out of here.”

* * *

It was unsurprising to find that Suki was in the loop. She was the one to have faith in liberation, after all, and Jet had been foolish to doubt her. His initial inclination to trust her was proven correct, and he once again realized cynicism wasn’t always the peak of reliability. It  _ was _ a little strange that Suki and Zuko existed within the same circle as each other, although Jet was relieved to find out Suki was not a fan of him. Even as he was biting back his pride and forcing himself to stomach the Firebender, he wanted those he surrounded himself with to share his disdain. 

“I was always going to ask to bring you with us.” Suki told him as they mopped the floors, looking amused.

Jet’s eyes lingered on where Li -  _ Zuko _ shuffled awkwardly in the background, now donning prisoner’s clothes, unsure and unwilling to participate in the conversation. It was good that he knew well enough to keep himself at a distance, if not a little pathetic. Jet was still not quite sure of how to act around him, because he made it easy to forget. He acted like he had in Ba Sing Se, like Li, who Jet liked quite a bit. He  _ was _ Li, in that nagging part of Jet’s memory.

Jet’s attention was quickly snagged by another figure approaching, wearing an ill-fitting guard’s uniform like Zuko had been before. Putting the pieces together, Jet figured this was Suki’s boy, and paid little mind, assuming she would introduce them. However, as the boy shuffled out of his helmet, Jet realized that would not be necessary. In the grungy, low lighting, shadows fell back to reveal a familiar face.

He was unmistakable. The round, moon shaped face, narrow, ocean-gray eyes, straight dark hair pulled into a wolf’s tail… Jet would recognize that semblance anywhere. It was the one that stuck in his mind’s eye whenever he recalled his mistakes - Sokka, lifting into the air on Appa while Jet watched, frozen to a tree, told of how wrong he had been. Jet remembered fighting against it at the time, his pride blinding him, but quickly after the Avatar and his friends left it became unavoidable. He also remembered the night before, when he kissed Sokka beneath the treetops, and wished for a chance to see him again.

Well, here they were. 

Sokka gaped at him, blinking rapidly, the journey of his realization visible on his face. He looked from Jet, to Suki, to Zuko, and then back to Jet again.

“What the fuck are  _ you _ doing here?” He demanded.

“Isn’t that obvious? I’m in prison.”

Sokka worked his jaw, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Around him, Suki and Zuko looked stupefied, rushing to keep up. Who would’ve thought it would end up this way, with all of them knowing each other? Maybe it was a sign - but Jet wasn’t sure what for.

“We are  _ not _ taking him with us!” Sokka blurted, turning to face Zuko.

“What?” Suki furrowed her brow, taking a step in, forcing Sokka’s attention to her. “Yes we are. He’s my friend.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sokka shot Jet a seething glare. “First my sister, and now my girlfriend?”

Jet arched a brow, “Girlfriend?”

“You don’t speak for me, Sokka.” Suki said, not unkindly, but firmly. 

“Didn’t know you swung that way, Water Tribe.” As soon as he said it, Jet realized his little quip was perhaps not the best balm for the rising conflict. Oops.

“I - I never said I didn’t!”   
  


“You didn’t have to.”

Suki looked hurriedly between the two, before her face melted into comprehension. Sokka, meanwhile, was bright red. And for the hell of it, Jet spared a glance over at Zuko, who looked utterly clueless.

“I - ugh! I’m not having this conversation with you.” He turned to Suki. “Look, I know he’s smooth and charming or whatever, but don’t let him trick you. He totally played Katara.”

Jet couldn’t resist picking at him, “C’mon, you know better than anyone that it wasn’t about Katara.”   
  
“Yes! That’s the problem! You were using her!” Sokka threw his arms out in exasperation.

“It doesn’t matter.” Zuko suddenly butt in. “You can argue all you want once we’ve escaped. No one, even Jet, should have to suffer through being held here.” 

  
“You, too, Zuko?” Sokka sighed, “Once again, am I the only one that sees the truth about this guy?”

“I see the truth better than anyone.” Zuko’s eyes nervously flitted to Jet, before jerking back away. “He’s an asshole, but he doesn’t deserve this.”

Sokka and Zuko commenced a tense, 30 second stare off, before Sokka sighed, shook his head, and muttered something to himself that sounded somewhat like an admission of defeat. He steeled himself once more before beginning to rattle off his plan, a bit underdeveloped but clever nonetheless. Jet remembered that about Sokka - how smart he was. Sticking his knife into a tree trunk to feel the vibrations of footsteps on the forest floor below, secretly ushering the townsfolk out of harm’s way when his friends wouldn’t listen to him. Suki’s earlier insistence that he would somehow figure out a way to find her made sense, now that Jet knew it was him.

Zuko, though. That had never been a factor. Jet wondered what universal strings had to be pulled to orchestrate their meeting; how these two boys from Jet’s past came together. Sokka being involved with the Avatar made it so it was sensical for him to come across a great myriad of people, but Zuko had just been a simple refugee like Jet. Well, until Jet found out he was the exiled Fire Prince. So maybe that was it. Regardless, seeing the two together was a bit of a trip. They seemed to get along well, as they conversed easily and comfortably, matching each other’s dry wit with ease. Jet supposed he had a bit of a type. 

* * *

As soon as it was set in motion, the plan shot off in a rush. Thanks to everyone’s adaptability, early hiccups were easily accommodated. Chit Sang was worked into the equation and he and Zuko fabricated an entirely mediocre fight, which was enough to put Zuko in the cooler. Jet knew better than anyone that it didn’t take much to earn a spot there, and was glad it was Zuko and not himself. Seeing as the thing was designed for suppressing Firebenders, who could redirect and focus their bending into regulating their body heat, it wouldn’t be as stifling for him. It was a perfect reminder of Zuko’s power, the underlying ability he had tucked away in Ba Sing Se. His betrayal. But Jet had sworn to himself he’d swallow his pride and anger enough to get out of here, so that was that. He watched fire burst from Zuko’s palms and he watched him dragged away by guards for it, nostalgic for the old part of his life when it was he who could do such a thing against a firebender.

However, the energy required for anger was eaten away by a persistent sadness. Even now, with the hint at possible freedom, he was plagued by a feeling of helplessness. In the forest, he had finally wrested some control from the world that stole all autonomy from him. It got out of hand, but he’d still been able to be the one to hold himself back after some direction. But since then he’d lost all command, lost all sense of self. Could he go back to normal once he was out of prison? Could he lead his Freedom Fighters with any sort of authority - enough to protect them? 

Sokka got him from his cell first. Jet wondered if this was on purpose, or was simply a matter of convenience. The women’s wing was further in, so it made sense Suki would be last. But still, as his solitary figure took shape in the murky shadows, Jet felt a rush of importance. This was the first time they’d been alone since he realized Sokka was here. It was reminiscent of their time together in the forest, before Jet went along and screwed that up. Sokka would forever live in his mind as the one person capable of showing him that error, so he couldn’t help the lingering feelings left in his wake. The tightness in his ribs, the chasm in his stomach. Survival in the forest had been built on relying only on himself and his people, suppressing unhelpful urges, taking only what he needed and disregarding indulgence. But Sokka had some quality that was destined to plague Jet’s thoughts. 

“You know, you’re lucky Suki likes you.” Sokka told him, expression steely. He shut the door behind him. “Otherwise I’d leave you in here where you can’t hurt anyone.”   
  
“I never meant to hurt you.” Jet said.

“I didn’t mean - this isn’t about me.” His hands clenched into frustrated fists at his sides. “And once we’re out of here, you’re going back to where you came from, alright? I don’t want you messing with my sister.”

Jet stood, taking the few steps necessary to bridge the gap between the two of them. Their dramatic difference in height was reinforced as Sokka was forced to crane his neck to look up at him, clearly miffed. 

“Are you seriously still on about that?” Jet asked, taking a step in and forcing Sokka slightly back. “Is it your way of pretending what happened never happened? Making it a fucking boy-girl thing? Well, you kissed me back, Sokka. So, I’m sorry I fucked up in the end but that part doesn’t change just because you don’t like me anymore.”

A quiet rage simmered behind Sokka’s eyes, black in the low light. He looked older, not dramatically so but enough to remind Jet of how much time had passed. The lines of his face were sharpened, still round and full but with a heavier brow, pointed cheekbones. And he held himself with a bit more ease.

“I’m not pretending anything.” He said, voice quiet but hard; seething. “I know what happened that night, and I regret it. I never should have listened to anything you had to say. It’s my fault for falling for your stupid, suave act. I can’t even blame you - it’s just your nature.” 

And Jet wanted so desperately for Sokka to understand - he hadn’t sought them out to manipulate them to his will. He didn’t want to be the villain. But it was a matter of survival. Sokka was enough like him to know the realities of war, to have suffered them and come out hardened, but he was still edged with naïveté. In order to drive out all imperialism, sacrifices had to be made. Tragedies had to occur. Jet had never once been happy about that, but it was the simple way of things. In the end, he’d been so blinded by this truth, he forgot there were other ways. War ruined him. It wasn’t his nature, it was the nature that was forced onto him.

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice low. “You were right. I was wrong. I just - I was so desperate to make a difference in this fucking war, so tired of being helpless, that I would have done anything. And I went too far. But you were the one who showed me that, who saw through my act, who was man enough to do something about it. You and your friends are the reason I knew I could start over and be better. I didn’t want to hurt you or anyone. And it’s not your fault.”

Sokka’s eyes flickered away, retreating to the ground as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Emotion swelled in the pit of Jet’s stomach, a shocking contrast to his recent tendency towards apathy. He could feel it like an electric pulse all the way to his fingertips, grand and all-encompassing. The anger, the shame, the wanting. 

All this feeling churning in him and nowhere to direct it - it was another example of his impuissance. Fucking inescapable. 

So he backed Sokka the rest of the way against the door and kissed him, just to do something about it. 

A moment of shock. Sokka’s still mouth. The warmth of his skin. Then, hands scrabbled at Jet’s chest, pushing him away with sudden and solid strength. Although shorter than him, Sokka was a lot more densely built, muscled and sturdy. Jet stumbled over his redirected weight and struggled to right himself. 

“Why would you do that?!” Sokka demanded, red in the face and fuming.

Jet wiped his mouth with the back of hand, pulse ringing in his ears. He, too, wasn’t quite sure. It seemed like a good way to destroy any of his chances of earning forgiveness. But he wanted to, and it’d been so long since he wanted something he could easily bring to reality. 

  
“Spirits, you are such an asshole!” Sokka scrubbed furiously at his lips, as if to get rid of any residue left by Jet’s kiss. He fixed Jet with an acidic glare. “I can’t fucking believe you. Just - let’s go. And  _ don’t  _ touch me again.”

So Jet followed Sokka through the empty, dark hallways, trailing behind him to watch the bob of his wolf’s tail and stubborn set of his shoulders. He stewed in his thoughts and budding regrets, mostly fixated on recalling the momentary thrill before he had been pushed away. The brief glimpse of possibility.

And of course his brain took this moment to redirect him into a new memory - Pao’s Tea Shop after close, watching Li’s back as he scrubbed teacups, illuminated by the glow of hanging oil lamps, quiet with the streets humming ambiently from outside. His long, pale neck contrasted by his shaggily growing in dark hair and his uniform’s high collar. His hands. Jet remembered coming up behind him and letting his breath ghost over his undamaged ear, a palm on his waist, grin against the side of his face. Li batting him away but smiling nonetheless. Jet then remembered the following kiss, and how different had been from their first one. Li hadn’t looked scared then, nor ashamed. He looked happy. Jet had been happy with him, even just for those few weeks, in that ambiguous, undefined time together. 

The memories began to flood in and wouldn’t stop, Jet attempting to wade through them while following Sokka down the corridor. 

He and Li had been happy and Li betrayed him. They had been happy and Jet tried to kill him.

They picked Chit Sang and then Suki up from their cells and started the trek to their meeting point. No one spoke, as to guarantee secrecy. But Jet was too caught up in his returning awareness to offer anything of value regardless.

Outside, Jet waited with Suki and Chit Sang for Sokka and Zuko to return. He wasn’t sure if he wanted them to. It was starting to seem that facing both of them at once would be overwhelming.

“What’s got you so pensive?” Suki asked him, jolting him from his thoughts.

He weighed his options. He liked Suki a lot, and didn’t want her to be awkwardly left out of the loop - especially if Sokka really was her boyfriend. Jet wasn’t like that - didn’t keep secrets. Not anymore. They always ended badly. 

So he went for it. “I kissed Sokka.” 

She blinked. “Oh.” 

“Don’t worry, he didn’t kiss me back. Quite the opposite actually.” Jet nudged his toe into the grass, absentmindedly moving dirt around. He itched for something to chew.

“Well, obviously I don’t think you should kiss anyone that doesn’t want it, but it’s not like Sokka and I are married. Or even exclusive.”

Jet lifted his gaze to cock an eyebrow at her. 

“Both of us have very important things to do in different parts of the world. We rarely get to see each other. I care about him, a lot, but we don’t really have expectations of each other. We just… enjoy each other when we can.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “And I already knew he likes guys. Just like he knows I like girls.”   
  
Jet couldn’t help but grin at this admission. “ _ Suki. _ ” He drawled, delighted.

This little peek into her personal life suddenly had him wanting to reciprocate and tell her more. He wasn’t typically one to spill his guts, but he and Suki were in prison together. She was the only person he could rely on, in there, and that meant something to him. 

Casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Chit Sang wasn’t listening in, Jet took a step closer. “I also sort of had a thing with Zuko.”

Suki’s eyes went wide, and the corner of her lips turned up. “Wow. You’re sort of a slut, aren’t you?”   
  
“Guess so.” Jet sighed. “That, or the universe is conspiring against me to bring all of my past flings together and tell me some message.”

“What’s the message, then?”

  
  
“Stop getting involved with guys I know are trouble, or something like that.”

  
  
“No offense, but I think you’re probably more trouble than anyone.” Suki bumped her shoulder against his. “Maybe that’s the message.”

Jet turned his gaze out to the horizon, a black line drawn over the bubbling edge of the lake, sky nebulous and cloudy. Heat from the water rose and dragged through the air, laying heavy around Jet’s shoulders.   
  
“Maybe the message is I should stop running away from shit because it’ll always find its way back to me.” Jet suggested.

  
Suki hummed. “That’s a good message.”

  
  
Within the same moment, there was commotion as two figures approached over the crest of the hill. Sokka and Zuko, sliding down the dramatic slope with their backs to the commandeered cooler. Immediately, Jet, Suki, and Chit Sang rushed to offer their assistance, weight of the thing cutting into Jet’s core as it forced him down the hill, towards the boiling shore. Waiting for them by the water was who Chit Sang introduced as his girlfriend and friend, who apparently he had decided were coming with. Jet wondered how they, alongside the already four of them, would fit into the one-man cooler.

  
But this quandary was easily squashed when the topic of Sokka’s father was brought up. Although Jet couldn’t first catch the entirety of the situation, he quickly gathered that Sokka’s father was here. Jet remembered hearing something about Sokka’s original purpose here being to find him. Now, as he doubted himself into inaction, saying the threat of failure was too monumental to try, something burned to life within Jet. In the face of the seemingly endless tide of war, it often felt useless to try - but to cease making an effort was to admit defeat. Sokka saying it was better to not try at all made Jet’s righteousness sing, and he wanted to butt in and convince him otherwise, but -

But Zuko did so in his stead. And Jet watched the exchange, the easy way Zuko reassured him, his grounded reasoning edged with optimism. His hand on Sokka’s shoulder. Jet knew his own words would be useless, that Sokka did not trust him - unlike the way he obviously trusted Zuko. 

So they would stay.


End file.
